4 June 2017
Hymn of Praise
bay and shore henge,
the sun rising out of the sea henge,
this forest older by far
than the Christian God,
and those Druids, my ancestors,
late-comers, five thousand years ago,
bound to this earth by the same
rays of sunshine that bind me now.
No man kills
in praise of the life-giving Sun,
that Celestial Father
who raised with Earth Mother
the beauty of our flowers,
the bounty of our fields.
Here, at Kingsbrae,
sitting at my window,
I raise my Sunday hymn of praise
to the Sun who gifted me my life
and who’ll still be there
when I end my days.